


i'll put a spell on you

by kuroothighs



Category: Free!
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Flower Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5010607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroothighs/pseuds/kuroothighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that he forgets. He just can't remember, and those, he thinks, are two completely different things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll put a spell on you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Supreme_Thunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supreme_Thunder/gifts).



> written for the first day of soumako week, with the theme flower language.

It’s summer.

He has no idea why he knows that, but he does know what season it is; he has no other perception of time.

He sits on the sands alone. He watches the ocean kiss the shoreline, lapping at it over and over tirelessly. He watches until his eyes hurt too much from staring at the way the sun shines off the rippling water, the light warping in the glittering glass.

The water reaches his feet and he thinks it’s supposed to be cold, but it’s not. The water is warm when it engulfs his toes, soaks the soles of his feet, rises up to his ankles. He can’t see properly anymore - he’s not sure if it’s because of the hair whipping around his face with the sea breeze, or because his eyes are blurred by the tears that refuse to fall.

His knees are folded to his chest and he buries his head in his arms and starts to cry, the sounds of his sobbing drowned by the waves crashing against the rocks.

–

The lights are too bright when he cracks open his eyes, and he is momentarily blinded. He screws them shut, and then blinks them open again.

The first thing he sees when he wakes up is a gray ceiling. He thinks he zones out for a few seconds, as he stares at the ceiling above him with dull eyes. The smell of antiseptic hits him, so he breathes in deeply through his nose and exhales.

He looks to his bedside, and watches the IV dripping repeatedly inside the bag. There’s an empty chair next to his bed, but what catches his eye is a small white vase sitting on his bedside table.

Inside the vase is a big bouquet of blue flowers, and it looks so full that the vase could barely hold it in. The blues are bright, speckled with a dot of yellow in the middle. There are small petals scattered on the table and he assumes that the flowers must have been placed there for a few days now if they were falling like that. He tries to swallow, but he winces in pain when he realizes just how dry his throat was. Instead, he darts his tongue out to wet his lips. He tastes blood.

The rest of the room is just an endless white.

He’s about to raise a hand to his face, but before he can, a dizzy spell overtakes him, and he blacks out.

–

The second time he wakes up, a lot of new faces greet him. He’s too weak to try and sit up in the meantime, and his throat is too dry from not being used for a long time, so he settles for staring at the people eager to get him to talk.

“Mako-chan! I thought you’d never wake up!” 

“Nagisa, Makoto-senpai can hear you perfectly fine. You don’t have to–”

“Makoto-senpai, my brother’s on his way from Australia after I told him about-”

All he does is smile at them sheepishly, raising his hand to scratch his cheek in embarrassment and hoping at least one of them will pick up on his obvious discomfort. The three surround his bed, nudging each other surreptitiously, like they were all trying to direct his attention to one of them. He laughs nervously.

The only quiet person in the room is watching him with unreadable eyes but Makoto shoots him a friendly smile when their eyes meet. He almost opens his mouth to plead for help, but he ends up saying something else.

“Haru,” he croaks. It comes out of his mouth too fast for him to realize that he’s said the name out loud. That finally gets a reaction from all of them, and they all immediately stop talking over each other.

“Makoto,” Haru finally answers, as if he’d been holding back his breath before. He bolts from where he’s standing near the door, crosses the room and throws his arms around Makoto.

He returns the embrace after a moment, hesitant and unsure. The others suddenly erupt into teary laughter and they crowd together and hug him. 

But his eyes roam around the room and what he sees is the small vase on the table next to his bed, replaced with the same blue flowers, but now fresh and blooming beautifully.

He can’t shake off the feeling that he’s missing something.

–

A stranger visits him on the third day after he woke up.

He has just blinked awake when the door to his room slowly opens, as he watches it with one eye closed. The room is dark with the lights turned off, the only light source coming from the hallway seeping inside. He can’t see the person that well, but he can make out the silhouette of a bouquet of flowers in the person’s hand. 

This stranger is different from the rest - meeting Nagisa, Rei, Gou and Haru had made him feel a sense of lost familiarity. Flashes of memories resurfaced when they talked about school and swimming (he’d have to talk to Haru about this again), and names of friends he thinks he’s supposed to know, but doesn’t.

But the person in front of him doesn’t spark a memory, doesn’t even register a name.

Makoto feigns sleep, choosing to feel the new visitor then make his way to the table where the small flower vase is. He breathes in deep, and waits. 

“Sorry I wasn’t able to visit you yesterday.”

He hears the chair scrape the floor, and the sounds of clothes rustling before it goes quiet. 

The person sitting next to his bed is someone whom he doesn’t recognize, but he’s sure knows him well. When he speaks again, Makoto feels his chest constrict. “Haru told me you said his name when you saw him. Will you tell me what my name is?”

There’s no pressure to remember, Haru tells him. But hearing this person’s voice for the first time hurts even when he doesn’t understand why. He wants to remember.

For now, Makoto sleeps.

–

“Haru, who are the flowers from?” 

It’s the day he’s finally getting discharged from the hospital. His memory is still hazy and he is still wobbly on his feet, and Haru has offered to take him back to his dorm. He’s thankful for the help, because he doesn’t want to be a burden to his parents who are all the way in Iwatobi.

“What flowers?” Haru asks. 

He points to the small bunch of wilted flowers on his bedside, and Haru’s eyes follow his hand. He looks at Haru expectantly, but is surprised at the sadness that he sees there. 

“We should throw them away. They’re wilted already.”

Haru picks up the flowers in his hands and moves to throw them in the trash, but Makoto pulls him back. “Haru, wait. I want to make dried flowers,” he says. He doesn’t say that he wants to keep them for himself as a reminder.

“They’re forget-me-nots, aren’t they? Maybe it’ll help me remember,” he smiles.

–

Makoto dreams. 

He’s lying on his back on the beach again, but this time he isn’t alone. Seagulls are flying in the distance, and the sea breeze carries the taste of salt on his lips. It’s a beautiful morning. 

He turns his head to the side and smiles at the face of the person resting next to him. The person smiles back and the color of the sea reflects in his eyes, making it glitter under the sunlight. 

The water rushes back in and he feels it creeping up his legs, to his waist, tickling the back of his neck. He looks down at his feet, but when he raises his head again, the person is gone. 

Makoto sits up, and whips his head left and right, but he’s alone. 

There aren't any traces of anyone having ever been with him. 

–

He finds out that his name is Sousuke. 

And that he was the one bringing him flowers. Sousuke is a friend of Rin’s and Haru’s, and he assumes his as well. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been bringing him gifts. 

The day they meet again, Makoto learns that Sousuke is going away. He doesn’t say where and explain why but Makoto hears the things he doesn’t say. 

He’s not coming back.

But I want to get to know you, he wants to say. _Again._

“You don’t want to leave, right?” Makoto blurts out instead.

Sousuke looks at him in surprise, and lowers his head. He knows Sousuke is deciding, and he waits in tacit understanding. A smile makes its way to his lips when Sousuke nods, but then he shakes his head lightly. 

“There are good friends here,” he mumbles. 

It’s an ambiguous answer, but Makoto will take it.


End file.
